


Life is Like an Onion (What the heck Deaton, that doesn't make any sense!)

by CabbageOriley



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Mpreg, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 15:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15367179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CabbageOriley/pseuds/CabbageOriley
Summary: Derek wakes up with Stiles in his bed.  How or when he got there he has no idea.  But is it really Stiles, because this is getting weird.“Stiles, wake up.”Nothing.The wolf rounds the bed and reaches for his cell phone.“Hello?”“Scott, Stiles is in my bed!”“Eww, gross, dude.  I mean, congrats?  But, I didn’t really need to know that.”Derek roars.  Not even that wakes Stiles up.  “We haven’t done anything!  Scott, get here now!"





	Life is Like an Onion (What the heck Deaton, that doesn't make any sense!)

Derek shifts under the pale blue sheets of his bed. He turns until he is facing to the left; away from the brightness of the sunlight streaming through his window. Then, he proceeds to wolf out.  
Around lengthened teeth, “Stiles, what the heck are you doing in my bed?” he growls.  
The teen doesn’t move; just continues to lie on his side and face the tan wall. Derek doesn’t know what to do. He has had enough experience with Stilinski to know that he’s a heavy sleeper when there are no supernatural threats pounding at the door. He guesses it’s not really a huge problem, but it was certainly unexpected and nothing that he ever wants to let happen again.  
Which, by the way, how DID it happen? Derek should have heard Stiles enter the room.  
“Stiles, get out of here!” Derek thinks of how the boy even got in the house. There was no pack meeting last night. He always locks the doors. Little twerp probably made a copy of his key. “STILES!”  
He doesn’t move.  
A wave of anxiety causes the shift to fully end. Derek gets out of bed and moves around to the left side. He kneels down. “Stiles?” He cautiously reaches out and shakes his shoulder. Nothing. He looks at Stiles’ face. Seems peaceful enough. Not like he is in pain or anything. Well, that’s good.  
Derek leans in and sniffs him, searching for some reason he isn’t waking up. There’s something there, a subtle flavor that hums through his senses. Nothing wrong, but something different.  
Derek is not conscious of his actions as he reaches out and brushes his hand against Stiles’ cheek. “Stiles, wake up.”  
Nothing.  
The wolf rounds the bed and reaches for his cell phone.  
“Hello?”  
“Scott, Stiles is in my bed!”  
“Eww, gross, dude. I mean, congrats? But, I didn’t really need to know that.”  
Derek roars. Not even that wakes Stiles up. “We haven’t done anything! Scott, get here now! There’s something wrong.”  
“What do you mean there’s something wrong?! What did you do to him?!”  
“NOTHING! Scott, get here now. I don’t know how Stiles got here, and he’s not waking up. Something weird is happening, and I need you here now!”  
Scott’s clamoring can be heard over the phone. “Okay, okay. I’m on my way.” Another thunk and the slam of a door. “I’m gonna call his dad.”  
Derek wavers but finally huffs agreement. If something’s really wrong he needs to know.  
\---------  
Scott is running up the Loft steps before he finally gets the Sheriff on the phone. He doesn’t know how to explain what is happening so just calmly states what he does know.  
“Hello?”  
“New Big Bad. Meet me at the Loft. Derek thinks Stiles is dead!”  
“Whoa, Scott, calm down!” The Sheriff runs to grab his gun. “Why would he think that?”  
Scott takes a deep breath, suddenly worrying his asthma is coming back. “Stiles is there at the Loft and, he’s not waking up.”  
“Stiles spent the night at the Loft?”  
“Um…”  
“If he’s not dying, I’m going to kill him.” He holsters his gun forcefully. “I’ll be right there.”  
Scott nods even though there is no way for the Sheriff to see him. He pockets his phone and wrenches the door open.  
“Dere…” His voice dies in his throat. The Loft is empty.  
\--------  
The Sheriff almost rips the door off its hinges in his haste to leave. He almost has a heart attack when he hears movement behind him.  
“Hey, daddio. Don’t forget your radio. Haha, that rhymes.” Stiles leans over the railing on his way down the steps and grabs the radio and holds it out to his father.  
The Sheriff turns on his son and marches him down. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?!”  
“Um… helping out my old man and then getting a bowl of the Reese’s cereal you thought you hid but really didn’t.” Stiles’ face has a smile plastered all over it. He tries to squeeze past his father, but is held in place with a firm hand on his shoulder.  
“How did you get back in the house? Climb through the window?”  
Stiles shakes his head and waves his hand. “I’m missing something. Clearly. I’ve been here all night.”  
“DON’T lie to me.” The Sheriff warns.  
“Dad, I swear, I’m not. I don’t know what’s going on, but I can assure you, I haven’t left this house in over 28 hours. I have the empty delivery boxes to prove it.”  
His father relaxes. “Okay. I believe you. But we need to call Scott, he’s freaking out. He thinks something is after you.”  
“New Big Bad? That’s not good.” Stiles turns to head back to his bedroom to grab his laptop. “Any idea what it is?”  
“No, but apparently Scott and Derek think it already has you.”  
Stiles nods. “Yeah, so calling Scott now.”  
Before he has a chance to call his best friend, his dad’s phone rings. The Sheriff puts it on speaker.  
“Scott.”  
“Mr. Stilinski, no one is here! Derek told me to get here immediately and then I get here and it’s empty. It’s deserted. I don’t know what to do. Stiles is our researcher and Derek is, well, Derek…”  
“Scott,” the Sheriff repeats.  
“And now they’re both gone, and I’m never going to find them by myself. And Derek said that Stiles was… but now they’re… and what if…”  
“Scotty, breathe for me. I’m the one with panic attacks, remember? Not you.”  
“STILES?!”  
“Yeah, buddy,” Stiles smiles.  
“Stiles, oh my gosh. You’re safe. And you’re awake! Oh man. Where’s, where’s Derek?”  
“I have no idea, but I’m starting to put this together. Whatever this thing is, it’s targeting Derek, not me. Okay? So, he’s being made to think that I’m in danger, but I’m not. It’s him.” Stiles sighs and rubs a hand over his head. “Derek’s not in the Loft, so we’re going to have to track him. Stay there. I’m on my way.”  
“I’m going with you,” his dad insists.  
“Dad, I don’t want you to get hurt.” With the look he gets from his father, he holds up his hands. They walk out the door together.  
\-------  
Scott is arguing with someone on the phone when the Sheriff and Stiles walk in the Loft. He pulls the phone away from his ear when that someone roars. Derek.  
“Dude, I’m telling you, I’m here and you’re not here!” Scott turns the phone on speaker so everyone can hear. “You need to tell us where you are so we can find you!”  
“Are you not listening to me?! I’m here. In my bedroom. And Stiles is sleeping. He won’t wake up.”  
“Derek,” Scott begs. “I’m at your place. Stiles and Mr. Stilinski just walked in. Stiles is right here with me.”  
“Hey, Sourwolf…”  
“Then have him say something,” the wolf growls.  
Stiles huffs. “I just did. Derek, listen to me. Do you remember anything about this new Big Bad? Did you see…”  
“Scott, stop lying to me. If he was there, he could say something.”  
Scott looks at the men standing with him. “Derek, he just talked to you. Did you not hear him?”  
“I swear I will disembowel you if you don’t get here right now!”  
Mr. Stilinski takes charge. “Derek. This is John. I assure you, if Stiles was not right here with me I would be just as panicked as you are. I promise you, Stiles is right here.”  
“Derek, man, I’m here with them. I’m fine…”  
“Sheriff, with all due respect, I have to disagree. Your son is in my bed. And, I know how that sounds, but I swear I have done nothing…”  
“Dude don’t make this weird,” Stiles whines.  
“… sexually…”  
“Oh my gosh, Derek, shut up.”  
“Derek,” the Sheriff whines. Yes, that was just a whine. “I am with my son right now. The three of us are standing in your Loft. It’s empty.”  
“Loft? I’m not in a loft, I’m in my house.”  
“House? What house?” Stiles asks. When there is no reply, he waves at Scott to speak for him. “He can’t hear me, you gotta speak.”  
“House? What house?”  
“Good boy,” Stiles pats Scott’s head like a dog. He growls, but the joke is interrupted.  
“What… Holy fudge sticks! I’m in my house!!!”  
“Holy fudge sticks?” The Sheriff questions.  
Stiles shrugs, “He doesn’t cuss… Part of some therapy he’s been working on.”  
“I’m in my house!” They can hear Derek panicking internally. “What the f-“  
Stiles cautions, “Derek, remember the code.”  
“-udge!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What the heck is going on?! Scott, get here now!!!!!!!!!”  
“I’m calling Deaton,” Stiles assures. “He’s closer to the Preserve than we are. Let’s go.”  
\----------  
Deaton enters the house and follows the presence he feels. He enters the bedroom. Derek charges him and emphatically points at the bed. “Is that or is that not Stiles Stilinski?!”  
Deaton calmly moves forward. “It does appear to be.”  
“Thank you!”  
“But, it’s highly improbable that it is. I just spoke to him on my way over here.”  
“What?!”  
Deaton continues to talk to Derek even as he begins to more closely examine ‘Stiles’. “Stiles told me that he would speak to you on the phone, but you were only able to hear his father and Scott. I believe there is some sort of field… a barrier… blocking you from the real Stiles.”  
“What do you mean, the real Stiles? I’ve smelled him, this is him. I know his scent.” Derek crosses his arms over his chest. He needs to stay calm. Frantic is something he is not. Never.  
Deaton stills. “Mr. Hale, we have a problem.”  
\-------  
When the cruiser pulls up at the shell of a house, the three men can see Deaton moving in and out of the house. They quickly walk up to him as he exits the house once more.  
“Deaton!” Stiles calls. “Is Derek here?”  
Deaton appears to be totally absorbed with the house. He waves a hand dismissively in their direction. “Astounding.” He steps around the yard peering at everything intensely.  
“Deaton!” Stiles tries again. “Come on.”  
The man turns toward them. “Incredible!” After a moment, he finally continues. “It is winter inside the house.”  
“What?” Scott looks through the open door. “What are you talking about?”  
“Don’t bother looking through the door, Derek and I have tried that. The windows too. Looking into the house from outside reveals no change. Once inside, looking out it is winter. There is snow all around.” Deaton turns in a circle. “Inconceivable!” He turns and enters the house. Once he crosses the threshold, his form disappears.  
“What the…” Scott is the only one to speak. The three men stand in silence for a few moments.  
The Vet suddenly appears on the porch again. “Well, what are you waiting for? Hurry up.”  
Somewhat apprehensively, the three men move forward.  
Chills run through Sheriff Stilinski as he passes the threshold and is suddenly transported into a vision of a perfectly kept house. As he looks at Scott, he can tell he has the same feeling. They turn to look at Stiles, but he isn’t there.  
“Stiles!” The Sheriff shouts. He looks around the entryway. “Deaton, where’s my son?!”  
Deaton examines the door. “Interesting.” He steps out and the two men are no longer able to see him- just a fresh blanket of snow. Suddenly a hand and forearm appears hovering inside the entrance motioning them to come out. They work up their nerve and step back through the portal.  
Stiles is wailing on the ground.  
“Stiles!” the Sheriff shouts as he hurries to him. “Deaton, what happened?”  
“I flew through the air is what happened!” Stiles moans. “OWWWW!”  
Deaton nods. “I should have known.” He helps Stiles sit up. “If you were to meet your other half…” The strange look in Deaton’s eyes give away a horror otherwise not seen on his expressionless face. “Stiles won’t be able to enter. Scott, stay with him. Sheriff Stilinski, you’re needed inside.”  
The Sheriff stands. “Son, I’ll be right back.”  
\-----  
Derek, Deaton, and the Sheriff stand around the figure of Stiles lying in the bed.  
Derek turns to look at the Sheriff. “I swear I didn’t do that. I’ve never touched your son.”  
The Sheriff pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s not in any physical pain, but mentally… Oh mentally, he is regretting every decision he has ever made in life.  
The three men lean in closer to Stiles. The Sheriff speaks in a hushed tone. “We have to tell him that this is possible.”  
“No…” Derek fervently shakes his head. “We can’t tell him.”  
Deaton speaks. “He will figure it out eventually. He is more powerful than we ever imagined.”  
Beneath them, eyes flutter open and there is a blood curdling scream. The men recoil and run backward as Stiles flings himself against the headboard.  
“Holy crap, you guys! You can’t just do that!!!” Stiles presses a hand to the soft curve of his stomach. “You almost gave us both heart attacks!” He stands up and shuffles to the ensuite bathroom. “I gotta pee. You’re lucky I didn’t go in bed, what with all the hovering.” He continues to mumble as he is in the restroom. Returning to the bedroom, he nonchalantly waves his hand in the air. “I know you’re worried about me, but you can’t just…” Stiles makes a hovering motion with his arms.  
Deaton steps forward and sits in front of Stiles on the bed. “Why would we be worried about you?”  
Stiles cocks his head a bit. “Wait… you… Oh my gosh, this is your root vegetable thing. You guys have been hiding this from me for five years! THIS?!”  
“What are you talking about?” Derek questions.  
“Stiles, focus on me,” Deaton cautions. “We don’t know how much longer we have. Why should we be worried about you?”  
“I’m anemic. Melissa gave me a transfer a few days back that should have been a match, but it didn’t really go too well. Just for past future reference, make sure it comes from our allied pack. We found out about the wolf antibodies a little late this time.”  
The walls slowly start to fade and Derek growls.  
Deaton looks around, clearly the three of them are the only ones to notice anything. “Stiles, is there anything else you need for us to know? Anything at all?”  
They don’t catch the mischief in his eyes as he answers. “No. Not really. But this,” he points to his midsection, “I already knew I could do it, so it’s really anticlimactic realizing this is what the big secret has been.”  
\---  
In the blink of an eye, the three men are standing in the burnt out shell of a house. The Sheriff shakes his head. “This is the most unbelievable day of my life. Even more so than the day I found out werewolves were real.”  
“HEY!!!”  
They look to see Stiles outside waving his arms.  
“HEY! I can see you!!!”  
They exit, and Scott and Stiles move forward to meet them.  
Scott is first to ask. “What happened?!”  
“We were in the future?” Derek questions the Vet.  
“COOL!” Stiles’ smile falls. “Wait! Not cool. I didn’t even get to do it! Dude! Come on, man.”  
Deaton looks Stiles over. “It’s because of you that it happened. You’re very powerful, Stiles. We need to work on your training as soon as possible.”  
“Training? Why?”  
Deaton is very formal. “Stiles, your life is like an onion.”  
Stiles’ face falls as Scott chuckles. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“You mean the Carl Sandburg quote?” Derek asks.  
“Or the Yiddish Proverb?” Sheriff Stilinski provides.  
Deaton shakes his head. “No. I mean one day as I was working on an antidote for a ghost bite, and it just came to me. Life is like an onion. Each layer rests beside the other and are not quite solid, but you are unable to see through them. But sometimes there is a thin layer, like a slick skin or film. And it will cling to a piece of onion. This though, you can see through. And as an onion forms and grows and wraps around itself, there is a section that can be seen through if you are in the right place at the right time.”  
The look on Stiles’ face is one of pure confusement and disbelief. “You’re likening my life to a root vegetable that stinks and makes you cry, and sometimes has a clear skin inside it? WHAT THE HECK, DEATON, THAT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE!!!!!”  
“You’re powerful, Stiles. Your onion had a layer that wrapped around itself. We were able to see into the next layer of onion in order to save you.”  
“Oh my gosh.” Stiles just shakes his head. “No. This is just insane. My life is not an onion. It’s freaking awesome that I am powerful enough that I can make pieces of the future come back, but do not relate that to an onion. A curly fry would be much more relatable. Curly fries wrap around themselves and sometimes get caught inside each other. If anything my life is like a curly fry.”  
Deaton nods. “My mistake. But, Stiles, please confirm one thing. How long have you known you could conceive and bear a child?”  
Stiles freezes. “I can WHAT?!?!”  
At the thud on the ground of Stiles passing out, the men turn to each other. Mr. Stilinski shakes his head. “I’m thinking my future son lied to us so he wouldn’t have to try to figure out the secret on his own for five years.”  
Derek rolls his eyes. “Sounds like Stiles.”  
“And speaking of five years,” Stiles’ father turns to Derek. “If you even think of getting involved with my son before he is 21, I can assure you it was not your child that he was and will be carrying.”  
“Understood.”

**Author's Note:**

> “Life is like an onion; You peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep.” Carl Sandburg  
> “Life is like an onion. Why is life like an onion? Because you peel away layer after layer and when you come to the end you have nothing.” Yiddish Proverb
> 
> I wrote this instead of sleeping, and may or may not have wasted a couple hours of my life.


End file.
